A Metal Bat and Fast Reflexes
by ColonelCrawfish
Summary: Basically, this will be TF2 from the point of view of the Scout. I know this sounds cliche, but just hear me out. It will be a series of one shots, some stringing together over a span of chapters. I really hope you enjoy! Rated M for Violence, and cussing
1. Prologue

A Metal Bat and Fast Reflexes Prologue

By ColonelCrawfish

Hey! This is my first Team Fortress 2 fanfic! I've decided to write this from the point of view of the Scout. He's my favorite class, I use him the most, and he seems the easiest one to write. I haven't really written about any videogames before, but I hope this'll turn out okay. All characters and stuff and crap in this are owned by VALVe, not me. Here's the prologue. Enjoy! ;D

So um, yeah. I'm th' Scout. I don't really got much ta tell ya about me. I don't got a real name any more. When I joined RED, the bastards took my name, and labeled me Scout, and that's what I go by now. I got used to it though. I probably wouldn't even answer to my real name anymore anyway, so whatever.

Basically, what I do is fight. There's three categories of class. Offensive, Defensive, and Support. I'm an Offensive class a' course, and I go attack. This company that I work for, Restructable Excavate Demolition or whatever the hell it is, got this thing goin on wit this other company, BLU. "Builders League of Shit"'s what I say. These guys got some jib with what were doin, and they want our blueprints.

So what we gotta do is fight 'em off, and keep 'em from getting our junk and killin us. They're nine guys, all the same classes as we are, except on the BLU team. But these guys are cocky little fuckers, ya know? Really get under yer skin and push yer buttons. So what I do is I go scout shit. That's my name, right? I'm faster than all the other dopes here, so I do my job good. Speaking of the other dopes, I'm not the only guy on the team. I got eight more lunatics to deal with, and they're on my side.

First, we got the Soldier. Soldier's a fellow Offensive class, like me. This guy is batshit insane. He wasn't even in the military, and this crazy bastard went on some Nazi killing spree. He made his own medals.

I'm surprised he's not in prison. The thing is, this guy aint right, ya know? He's got a few screws loose. He acts like some super strict US military sergeant. I heard he keeps the severed heads a' people he killed, and lectures 'em like military troops 'er something. Really creepy shit. I aint on bad terms wit 'em, but we aint exactly friends. He's always tellin me ta man up and stuff, but whatever. Screw him.

Next, we got tha Pyro. He's an Offensive guy too. He runs around settin shit on fire. But uhh….. this guy is a bit weird. He's always up and doin stuff with us, but he don't talk much. Well…. he does talk, but we can't understand 'em. He wears this flame resistant suit or somethin. We can't even understand what the fuck he's sayin with that damn gas mask on. Nobody's ever seen him without it on. I bet he even wears that thing while he's asleep. But hey, he don't talk, so I get along wit 'em.

Then we got Heavy. He's a big fatass Russian that carries around a fucking mini battleship that tears people to shreds. He's on defense. He aint that smart, ya know? He can't even make a full sentence. He's always talkin about babies and sandwiches and shit, but I don't really know. He's just a bear. A big shaved, idiot bear.

An' 'nen theres Demo. He's on D. You don't see guys like him just walkin down tha street though, if you know what I'm sayin. He's black, an' he's Scottish. Weird enough right? But get 'dis. He's missin an eye. He's a black, Scottish, Cyclops.

I heard when 'e was young he accidentally blew up his parents tryin to kill that Loch Ness thing in Ireland or whatever. An' 'nis guy is drunk CONSTANTLY. He says really hilarious shit while he's hammered, though. The only two things this guy is good for is parties, and blowin stuff up.

We also got Medic. 'Dis guy is probably tha craziest outta all of us. He's like some crazy, psycho, ex- Nazi guy that creeps me tha hell out. He heals us and shit like he's supposed to, but he aint no regular doc. He puts his life over ours. Like, say we come up to a sentry nest. He knows we're screwed, so he'll hightail it and let us die. He also likes when people are in pain, like some sadist freak-o. I think he calls it "Shad Florida" or something. I dunno, but you know what I think? This guy is just plain messed up.

Our seventh weirdo in tha batch is Sniper. He says he came from the Outback in Australia, huntin kangaroos and koalas, or whatever the hell they shoot there. Truth is, he's just a bum that lives in a van. Shootin shit, and peein in jars. Oh yeah, speakin 'a that, he throws piss at people. No, really.

He says he's "professional" and 'dat he has "standards", but I think he's just a little wuss. Stand a few miles away an' camp. He aint even in tha fray! I got bullet wounds, man! Bullet wounds! He just got a cut unda' tha eye. But hey, we eat taco's togetha' from time ta' time, so he's cool.

Spy. Spy….spy….spy….. This guy's a real jerk. He's tha' typical French snooty guy, basically tha buzz-kill of tha group. He's always gotta find a problem with everything. He calls himself a "dashing rouge", but he aint shit. He aint got tha guts to actually be out in the battlefield riskin yer life. He just runs around behind everyone, all invisible and shit, and backstabs people. That's what he is. A backstabber. Well, the main reason I hate 'em is because he fucks my mom. But hey, everyone fucked my mom back in Boston. That's why I'm here.

Last, but not least, is Engie. He's basically the only real friend I got around here. He's like tha father I neva' had. Well….I guess he's ONLY father I've ever had.

Dad left Mom when I was born. He knew I wasn't his kid, so he left. I neva' really met my actual Dad, but hey. I don't think I really wanna find out.

But yeah. Engie's kinda a role model for me. He's the only other American that aint a raving lunatic. He understands…..ya know? He helps me out and keeps me in line. I can basically tell him anything. I know we're co-workers, but he really helps me stay sane.

Yup. That's how stuff works around here. It's nine 'a us against nine 'a them. We battle it out for our companies. It aint easy, but hey, it's a job.

Hoped you liked this! Mind you, this is only the prologue. It'll get much better once the story actually starts. This is going to be the only part when it's just the Scout talking. The rest of the story is going to be like a regular story, in traditional narrative format. Stay tuned, Crawfish out.


	2. Early Morning

A Metal Bat and Fast Reflexes

By ColonelCrawfish

Ok, this one will be different than the prologue. This will be written in third person, unlike the previous chapter. This turned out a bit more dramatic and psychological than I expected, but bare with me. Here we go, enjoy it, love it, have sex with it and let it fall asleep in your arms, it's the first chapter. xU

"GOOOOOOOOOOD MORNING AMERICA! It's August 22, at 6:30 a.m.! Today's forecast will be-"

"Nghhhh………….Damn it….."

Scout was awakened by the overly enthusiastic voice of an annoying morning show host. The sound of the clock's broadcast seemed to be blasting into his bunk. He let out as small groan as he shifted his body closer to his desk beside him, and slammed his hand down on top of the clock, immediately bringing silence back to the room. Once his eyes adjusted to the light streaming through the windows, he looked around the room to see the other two triple-decker bunk beds on the side walls of the roomy barracks. In the silence he heard the small grumbles and the ridged shifting of his other team mates, for they too wished to sleep a tad bit longer.

"I see someone's still having sweet dreams." Spy scoffed from the bunk to the left of Scout. On the bottom bunk directly to Scouts right he saw the rise and fall of the Heavy's large bulky body. Heavy's loud rumbling snores rang through the room. Sniper grunted. "Someone wake sleepy head up, I'm sure as hell not going to."

"Huddah huhh."

The Pryo leapt down from the topmost bunk above Scout, clad in only boxers and a gas mask. Pyro walked over to the Defense bunk and tapped Heavy on the head.

"Mrph."

Only more snores…

"Mrph......"

Nothing…

"Mrph!!"

Still nothing. Pyro was practically punching Heavy in the head at this point. Soldier, in the bunk above Scout, began to chuckle.

"MRPH HUDDAH HUDDAH HUHH!!"

"DAAHHH! WHAT TINY BABY WAKES HEAVY?!" The Heavy finally awoke, with a roar. Scout cleared his throat. "Yo chucklenuts, it's time to get up." "Oh, yes." Heavy murmured. One by one, everyone got up and went to their respectable bathroom to get ready. Each class had their own personal bathroom to go to, to get away from everybody and to relax with the small amount of time they could get. Scout threw the covers from his body, and made his way towards his little slice of privacy. Scout closed his door behind him and glanced at the walls of the cramped quarters. They were littered with tacked up pictures of his mother and many brothers. Scout paused at a picture of his eldest brother, then a teenager, a laugh etched on his face, helping a young Scout to hold a baseball bat twice his size. Scout couldn't suppress a grin. Scout chuckled. "Derrick you bastard…"

Scout looked at himself in the mirror, and the his smile slowly faded. He had grown up a lot since then. What the hell had he gotten himself into? Three years ago, when he had taken the job for Reliable Excavation Demolition, he had no idea that he would be fighting for his life on a daily basis. A small part of him missed the streets of Boston. He missed playing ball with his brothers, eating T.V dinners with his family, the quick peck on the cheek from his mother when he was off to school…..That seemed so long ago…Then, he didn't have to worry about stickies on the doorframe, or sentries around the corner. Life was a lot easier then. And yet……

Another part of him began to gain a taste for killing. A taste for blood. And this scared him. Scout had actually begun to enjoy killing. When he would get a kill, a smile would spring on his face and he would taunt his dead victim. Was this normal? Was it okay for him to be feeling like this? Was he going crazy? Was he going to die before he could see his family again? Scout grimaced and turned the faucet on the sink. He splashed his face with the slightly dirty water emitting from the spicket, and dressed in silence.

Scout emerged from the room, hands wrapped in gauze, and his lucky cap atop his head. It appeared Engie had fallen back to wait for him.

"You're gonna be late for briefin', boy." Engie chuckled. "Well thanks for hangin back Engie, yurra pal." Scout said with a toothy grin. Engie's smile turned to a look of distress.

"We gotta big mission aheadda' us, son." Engie said with a grim face.

Scout frowned.

"Heads are gonna roll."

HOW WAS IT FOLKS? Was it as sexy as I said it was gonna be? I realize this one is kinda short, but I had to start with something. Yup! THIS AINT NO ONE SHOT PEOPLE. You guessed right, my first story in the batch will be a multi-parter! Stay tuned! Fave, review, go crazy! ColonelCrawfish signing out! DISMISSED!


	3. Update

Hallo, it is I! Colonel Crawfish! I just wanted to give a slight update. Thanks to you six or seven people who faved this story, and hope to see more. It may not be many people, but hell, it means something to me. I'm sure more people will read. Hopefully. Regardless, you people want to see more of what I can do, and I'm happy!

"A Metal Bat and Fast Reflexes" isn't over yet. The creative juices just aren't flowing. I pumped out two chapters, and my battery is still charging. I keep telling myself to write, but I just won't. Don't worry, I've still got more planned. In the story, I'm toying with some ideas for the upcoming fight, like cutting away to the point of view of some other classes, when the action gets dull with Scout. We'll see. I assure you though, it's still coming.

Also another announcement, I'm thinking of starting a Left 4 Dead fic. I haven't decided what it's going to exactly be about, but I think it can be done. I'm certainly not going to show how Bill, Francis, Zoey, and Louis all met. That's too over done and cliché. I may just write the campaigns in story form, or I may do something else. I might even do a fic based on Ellis, Coach, Nick and Rochelle from Left 4 Dead 2, documenting their crazy escapades. I don't really know. I've also got a few ideas for a One Piece or a Pokemon fanfic, but eh.

I still like Pokemon, don't judge me.

I've got a lot of ideas in my head, but writers block strikes again. Don't worry seven fans, Colonel Crawfish isn't done yet.

Bai bai.


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